


You're My Best Friend

by Mimsynims



Series: Best Friends [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Anathema Device Ships Aziraphale/Crowley, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale & Anathema Device Friendship, Best Friends, Crowley is a whovian (well they both are), Doctor Who References, Drunken Kissing, Friends to Lovers, Good Friend Anathema Device, Kissing, M/M, Miscommunication, Neighbors, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-22 11:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimsynims/pseuds/Mimsynims
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley had been neighbours for six years - and best friends for even longer than that.To Aziraphale's distress, that was about to change:“I’m leaving."Aziraphale looked up from his position on his couch at his friend, Crowley. His best friend as it was. They had known each other for what felt like forever, but in reality since they met at the university 15 years ago. Crowley was now standing in the door frame between the hallway and the living room, grey hoodie on.“Yes, I can see that. See you tomorrow.”“No- I mean yes, that too.” Crowley looked down at his feet and took a deep breath. “That’s not what I meant.” He raised his head again. “I’m leaving London.”Aziraphale almost dropped the book he was reading. For a few seconds it was like the whole world came crashing down around him, like his life would never be the same again.“Why?” was all he could manage to press out.Crowley looked closed off.“I’ve got a new job, thought it was time to move on.”
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Best Friends [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2216730
Comments: 64
Kudos: 96
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Aziraphale

**Author's Note:**

> Soo... This is my first attempt at something Explicit. I wanted to see if I could, so we'll see if it becomes my one and only attempt, or if I dare to do it again :P
> 
> A big thank you to the lovely beta Raechem! I also want to thank Jessie for helping me sort out stuff I struggled with:)
> 
> And of course a shout-out to everyone in the Bar, love you all!
> 
> Note 1: I will add more tags later on.
> 
> Note 2: My intent was to put the NSFW part in it's own chapter but it turned out differently than planned, so there's other minor stuff in there too. While you won't miss anything crucial if you skip it, I think the fic flows better if you don't.

“I’m leaving.”

Aziraphale looked up from his position on his couch at his friend, Crowley. His best friend as it was. They had known each other for what felt like forever, but in reality since they met at the university 15 years ago. Crowley was now standing in the door frame between the hallway and the living room, grey hoodie on.

“Yes, I can see that. See you tomorrow.” 

“No- I mean yes, that too.” Crowley looked down at his feet and took a deep breath. “That’s not what I meant.” He raised his head again. “I’m leaving London.”

Aziraphale almost dropped the book he was reading. For a few seconds it was like the whole world came crashing down around him, like his life would never be the same again.

“Why?” was all he could manage to press out.

Crowley looked closed off. 

“I’ve got a new job, thought it was time to move on.”

That wasn’t something that surprised Aziraphale, Crowley had a tendency to change jobs every few years. But this was the first time he’d chosen a job outside of London since he came back after living in Scotland for a few years. That was six years ago and their friendship had grown immeasurably since then.

Aziraphale felt a swirl of emotions inside but either couldn’t or didn’t want to identify them at that moment. 

“When...when are you leaving?” He lifted up the book again and pretended to find where he had left off, all so he could avoid looking at Crowley. He didn’t know why, but it felt like the rest of his life depended on what his answer would be.

Crowley was silent for several seconds before he finally answered.

“On Sunday.” His eyes looked pleading now, like he was hoping for a reaction that wasn’t coming.

“This Sunday? But that’s in two days!” Aziraphale looked up again now, eyes wide and agitated. “Why haven’t you told me this earlier?” He rose from the couch.

Crowley started to take a step forward but changed his mind. He sighed.

“It happened really fast. Anathema got a tip about a job opening and was told they needed someone right away. I should have told you earlier but I didn’t want to ruin our night.” He leaned against the door frame. “I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale looked down at his hands and realised he had started to wring them like he did when he was unsettled. They weren’t just best friends, they were also neighbours and often spent their evenings together - it could be watching movies, or simply just keeping each other company while doing mundane things. This night hadn’t been anything special, they had eaten dinner in front of the telly, watching some corny game show. In retrospect, Crowley had been somewhat more quiet than usual, and had suggested that Aziraphale should continue with his book while he checked his social media accounts. So why did Crowley feel like he had to wait? He looked up again, unsure of what to say.

“You’ll manage just fine without me. You’ve done that once before right? And you have Ana and Newt to keep you company, you don’t need me.” Crowley looked like he was trying to convince himself more than Aziraphale.

“Yes, that’s true… But we weren’t as close friends last time, and I must say I missed you quite a lot even then.” _And I do need you._ He wanted to move closer, but felt too scared. Too vulnerable.

“Aziraphale, I won’t disappear to another planet. Look, I’m dead tired so I’m gonna go now.”

Aziraphale said nothing at first, he just looked at him. Crowley looked sad, not tired. As sad as Aziraphale felt.

“Alright, talk more tomorrow, then,” he finally said, dejected. He noted that Crowley didn’t respond, which made him worry but he didn’t stop him when he turned to leave the apartment. He slowly sank down on the couch again, eyes staring at nothing while his brain worked overtime. Crowley was right, this wasn’t the first time he left. During their 15-year-long friendship, Scotland wasn’t the only time they had lived in different cities. Although their close-knit gang from university - himself, Crowley, Anathema and Newt - had kept in touch after graduating, they all had parted their ways afterwards and hadn’t reunited til years later.

So why was this time so much harder? _You know why._ He forced his eyes shut, trying to silence that treacherous voice coming from somewhere deep in the back of his mind. _No_.

He opened his eyes again, tears in his eyes. He would talk to Crowley tomorrow, he had to try to make sense of all this.

¤¤¤

“Crowley, I know you’re still home. Open the door.” Aziraphale was standing outside Crowley’s apartment. He had hoped that Crowley would come over to him when he felt ready, but after a few hours of waiting, Aziraphale decided to go to him. The doors in the building were inefficiently soundproofed, so he knew that Crowley hadn’t left yet. Unless he had left before Aziraphale had woken up? Oh dear, he hadn’t thought about that. His shoulders sagged and he turned to go back into his own apartment, but just as he put his hand on the door knob, Crowley’s door opened behind him.

“Hello, Aziraphale.” He didn’t say anything more, gave no explanation as to why he hadn’t opened right away.

Aziraphale turned back again, eyeing Crowley carefully. The short auburn hair that was usually perfectly styled looked messy, although still in a stylish way - almost like it was perfectly ruffled by accident. Under his caramel eyes he had dark circles, emphasizing his chiselled cheekbones, and he looked like he hadn’t slept at all during the night. Maybe that was why he hadn’t bothered to shave this morning - although Aziraphale couldn’t complain, it just perfected the scruffy photo model look he got going.

He could now see that he had his leather jacket on, and what looked like a backpack thrown over his shoulder. Aziraphale really loved this look on Crowley: The tailored jacket clinged to his body in a most flattering way, enhancing the width of his shoulders and the thin but strong frame. Underneath he wore a white t-shirt, black sunglasses hanging from the collar - he looked devastatingly handsome.

“Going somewhere?” Aziraphale tried to sound chipper, but failed miserably.

“Uh, yeah. ‘M gonna go look at an apartment.” He avoided looking into Aziraphale’s eyes.

“Oh. When will you be back?” Aziraphale tried to catch his eyes but Crowley turned his head away. He steeled himself. “We need to talk.”

Crowley finally looked at him again, sadness mingled with determination in his eyes.

“What’s the point? You know what, I gotta go.” He closed and locked his door and headed for the lift. They lived on the fifth floor, and even though it was a bit unreliable, they both preferred to use it instead of taking the stairs.

Aziraphale was shocked by Crowley’s unexpected behaviour and didn’t react first, but after a moment he made a decision and went after Crowley, narrowly managing to get into the lift with him.

“What are you doing? You’re not coming with me.” 

“We need to talk, Crowley, you can’t just drop something like this on me and then run away.” Aziraphale wanted to grab his shoulders and shake some sense into him, but he kept his distance.

“I’m not-”

The lift suddenly screeched to a stop in between two floors. The building was old and so was the lift, which was why it sometimes stopped unexpectedly. It always started to work again after a short while, but there was nothing to do but wait until that happened.

“Talk to me Crowley. I don’t understand why you are doing this, why you are moving from London?” _Moving away from me._ That voice in his head made itself known again.

“I just do, OK? Ngk, I need to get out of here!” The frustration was evident in his voice, and he started pacing back and forth in the lift while avoiding to look at Aziraphale.

“You can’t leave, Crowley. There isn’t anywhere to go.” Sadness permeated his words, and Aziraphale started to feel desperate. “At least tell me when you decided that you wanted to move away?” This wasn’t the first time that Crowley had gotten a job offer to work outside of London, but thus far he had turned them all down. Until now.

Crowley stopped moving, staring at the floor. He raised his head up towards the ceiling of the lift and closed his eyes.

“Two weeks ago.” It looked like some of the tension in his body went away and he finally looked at Aziraphale again, but said nothing more. The frustration was gone, leaving only what appeared to be resignation.

“Two weeks ago? What happened two weeks ago that made you want to leave?” Aziraphale tried frantically to remember if anything special had happened at that point in time, but his memory was escaping him.

The lift started moving again with a lurch, and they both looked at the floor display out of pure habit. It was moving down again. Crowley turned to face Aziraphale, eyes trailing over his features with an indecipherable emotion on his face. Just as the lift reached the ground floor, he suddenly took a step forward and cupped Aziraphale’s face with both hands. Before Aziraphale could react, Crowley leaned in and gave him a hard kiss. The kiss didn’t last long and just before the doors started closing again he let go, stopped the doors with one hand, and left the lift without a word - leaving a stunned Aziraphale behind.

One of their elderly neighbours from the same floor stepped into the lift, greeting Aziraphale, but he hardly registered it. The kiss had awakened a memory, or at least part of a memory. He now remembered that they had been to a party at Anathema and Newt’s apartment two weeks ago - a masquerade party.

Aziraphale had dressed as Cupid with halo, wings and all - and a bow of course. Crowley had decided to go as a demon, wearing black clothes with red details and special contact lenses that looked like snake eyes. He had also put on eyeliner - ‘to enhance the effect of the contact lenses’, he had said. Aziraphale’s mouth had turned dry at the sight.

They’d had quite a lot to drink that night which probably was why this particular slice of memory had been forgotten until now. They had been sitting on the kitchen counter, talking about something he couldn’t remember, when he had seen Gabriel in the living room.

_“Oh no, what is he doing here?” Aziraphale looked around, wondering if he had time to hide somewhere._

_“Who? What are you talking about?” Crowley frowned and spied towards the living room too._

_“No! Don’t look, he might see us.”_

_“Who?” Crowley repeated, not understanding what was happening._

_“Gabriel! You haven’t met him yet, but he’s Anathema and Newt’s new neighbour, and he has for some reason set his sights on me.” Aziraphale made a disgusted face. “He’s a jerk, I heard him yell at the lovely couple on the fourth floor. The ones with the cute dog, you know?”_

_Crowley seemed just a little bit too tipsy to follow all of it, because he was still frowning._

_“He has made a pass at me several times now, even though I’ve said that I’m not interested. Keeps saying I’m just playing hard to get.” He sighed and swayed a little. Crowley wasn’t the only one that was just a little bit too drunk tonight._

_Crowley finally seemed to catch on what Aziraphale was saying._

_“Ahh, he won’t give up? Just say that you already have a boyfriend.” He squinted, trying to focus as he was looking towards the living room again. “Is he tall and looks like a douche? Because he’s coming this way in that case.”_

_Crowley’s suggestion had given Aziraphale what, in that drunken moment, seemed like a great idea. He looked up and just like Crowley had said, he could see Gabriel coming towards them with a predatory grin on his face. With no time left to convey his idea to Crowley, he grabbed his shirt, tugging him towards him._

_“Sorry,” he whispered._

_“What are you-”_

_Before he could finish, Aziraphale placed a kiss on his lips. Crowley’s hands came up to hold on to his shoulders, as if he needed the support._

_Aziraphale had only meant it to be a light kiss, to fool Gabriel. But the kiss quickly became more heated, and he found himself moving one of his hands up to Crowley’s soft hair, grabbing hold. Crowley reacted with a moan and draped one arm around his waist, pulling him closer. The other one went further down, squeezing the soft flesh of his buttock. Aziraphale gasped and Crowley seized the opportunity to move in, letting his tongue tease the inside of his mouth for a few moments before biting lightly on his bottom lip._

_“Crowley..!” Aziraphale pulled away a little to look at his friend. His positively stunning friend. Even though the eyeliner was a bit smudged at this point, it did its job - the contacts looked amazing in the dim light in the kitchen, somehow enhancing the rest of his costume. He was breathing hard, wondering what this meant, what to say._

_Crowley raised a hand and cupped the side of his face, softly caressing his cheek with his thumb. He looked into his eyes, as if searching for something._

_“Aziraphale, I-”_

_A crashing sound from the living room made them both jump in surprise and turn their attention to where the sound had come from. Anathema came into the kitchen, looking distressed._

_“Oh, there you are! Gabriel is making an ass of himself and refuses to leave.” Had this been a normal situation, she would definitely have reacted to the way her friends were still entangled with each other, but at that moment she was too flustered to notice. “Aziraphale, could you please help? He seems to like you, so you might be able to talk some sense into him? Or at least help Newt drag him out of here.”_

_Aziraphale had scooted down to the floor before she could finish, eager to help - and to escape. He needed time to think._

_“Of course, Anathema.” The smile he gave her was wobbly, due to both alcohol and arousal. He tried to adjust his costume to hide the fact that he was hard._

_“Thank you.” She gave him a grateful smile, and looked past him. “And maybe you can be on standby in case they need help?” She asked Crowley, still sitting on the counter._

_Aziraphale finally dared to glance back. Crowley was looking straight at him, ignoring Anathema. He didn’t say anything, but it appeared as he was expecting something from Aziraphale. Needed something._

_Aziraphale didn’t know what to do, so he said nothing. Crowley’s shoulders slumped, and he suddenly looked defeated._

_“Yeah, sure,” He jumped down, a little unsteady on his feet. “I'm just gonna...” He pointed vaguely in the direction of the bathroom and turned to walk that way._

_Anathema stepped forward and grabbed Aziraphale’s hand._

_“Let's go, we can't wait for him to get back.” She pulled him along as Aziraphale gazed after Crowley’s form, disappearing behind a corner._

Aziraphale was suddenly pulled back to present time when the lift stopped at their floor, doors opening.

“Young man, are you coming or staying in there?” said the nice Mrs Young, giving him a peculiar look.

“Ah. Yes,” Aziraphale said, realising that the doors were already beginning to close again, so he took several quick steps forward to get out in time. “Sorry, Mrs Young, I’m a bit out of it today.” He tried to put on a polite smile.

“That’s alright, Aziraphale, that was quite the kiss.” She patted him on the arm as they walked side by side towards their respective apartments. “And about time, if you don’t mind me saying so, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Her smile was warm. “I’m happy for you both. Good day, Aziraphale.” She left him by his door and continued towards her own.

“Yes, uh, good day.” He opened his door to go inside, but stopped before entering, turning his eyes towards the door facing his. _Oh, Crowley. Am I too late?_

He went in and headed straight for his couch, practically throwing himself onto it. He went back in his mind to that night at the party again. He and Newt had managed to get that tosser Gabriel out without Crowley’s help, and when he returned to the kitchen, he wasn’t there. He had checked the bathroom and the living room, but couldn’t find him anywhere. A distraught Aziraphale had grabbed the first glass of alcohol he could see - which had been a large tumbler of whisky - and swilled it down in one go. No wonder he didn’t remember anything. He’d had a hangover from hell the next day.

Aziraphale sighed and stared into the ceiling. Crowley had come over to check on him, but had been very quiet the entire time. Aziraphale had chalked it up to him also being hungover at the time, but he realised now that that hadn’t been the reason. 

He groaned and put a hand over his face. The questions overwhelmed him. What should he do? What _could_ he do? What did he want? _What did he feel?_ He realised he needed to figure this out before he talked to Crowley, but he didn’t have much time. Normally, he would have discussed things with Crowley, but that was obviously out of the question. After a short deliberation with himself, he picked up the phone and called Anathema.


	2. Crowley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same events as in chapter 1, but from Crowley's perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no fluff just yet;)
> 
> (This chapter began as an experiment that I ended up keeping)

Crowley knew he should have told him as soon as he arrived here tonight. Well, actually he should have told him a week ago when he accepted the job. He had kept putting it off, telling himself it was for the best but really, it was because he was a coward. 

He looked up from his phone at his friend, sitting with his book in the other corner of the couch, and felt a smile grow on his face. He loved how Aziraphale seemed to get completely engrossed in his books, even when he had read them several times before - it was as if he let his mind travel to that other world, forgetting about this one. 

The smile vanished from his face. He would miss this, but it was for the best. 

Aziraphale’s cuckoo clock struck ten. Crowley looked at it with a sentimental half-smile. It really was a ridiculous thing, but he still liked it. He remembered when they had found it in an antique shop, many years ago. Actually it was Crowley that had spotted it and pointed it out to Aziraphale with a laugh, noting that it had an owl instead of the usual bird. Aziraphale had for some strange reason become smitten with it, and had bought it without even trying to haggle for the price.

No point in staying any longer, he thought, and got up. As expected, Aziraphale didn’t even notice, still enthralled by whatever was happening in his beloved book. Crowley walked the short distance to the hallway and grabbed his grey worn hoodie, putting it on out of pure habit. He lived across the hall so there was really no need for it, but they sometimes went down to the local pizzeria for a slice and a beer, which is why he always brought it with him just in case.

Crowley turned to look at his friend. Aziraphale was wearing a soft beige cardigan over his azure shirt and the combination enhanced the cobalt in his eyes, making them appear as solidly blue even though you could find grey and hazel in there too. He should know, considering how often he had studied them intensely. His blonde locks were a bit tousled, probably from pulling his hand through his hair in pure frustration; he had mentioned that his boss Sandalphon had been particularly sadistic today. All in all, he looked absolutely adorable.

This bewitching creature was his best friend in the world, and that was the problem.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself, he had to tell him now.

“I’m leaving.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Aziraphale answered, looking up from his book. “See you tomorrow.” He was already lowering his eyes to continue reading.

“No- I mean yes, that too.” This was already taking a wrong turn, he thought, inhaling another deep breath. “That’s not what I meant.” He had lowered his head but forced himself to look up at Aziraphale again. “I’m leaving London.”

He could tell that the news shocked Aziraphale - that the words hurt him - and tried to close himself off. He needed to, if he was going to be able to leave. The few seconds it took before Aziraphale replied felt like hours.

“Why?” He sounded like it was a struggle to even get that word out.

“I’ve got a new job, thought it was time to move on.” He could see that Aziraphale was trying to process this.

“When...when are you leaving?”

Aziraphale lifted up the book again in a failed attempt to appear nonchalant; Crowley could see that his hands were trembling slightly and it crushed him. 

He closed his eyes to gather strength before answering.

“On Sunday.” He opened his eyes again. For some reason he suddenly hoped that Aziraphale would ask him not to go, to stay here with him. To be with him.

“This Sunday? But that’s in two days!” 

Aziraphale rose and Crowley’s spontaneous reaction was to go to him, but he stopped himself, knowing he might change his mind if he did. There was no turning back now.

“It happened really fast. Anathema got a tip about a job opening and was told they needed someone right away. I should have told you earlier but I didn’t want to ruin our night.” He knew it was a poor excuse as soon as he said it. “I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale started to wring his hands; a telltale sign that he was flustered and needed to think.

“You’ll manage just fine without me. You’ve done that once before right? And you have Ana and Newt to keep you company, you don’t need me.” Maybe if he said it out loud, Crowley would start to believe it himself.

Aziraphale didn’t look convinced.

“Yes, that’s true… But we weren’t as close friends last time, and I must say that I missed you quite a lot even then.” There was something vulnerable in Aziraphale’s voice, and it broke Crowley’s heart.

He needed to get out of there. Now.

“Aziraphale, I won’t disappear to another planet. Look, I’m dead tired so I’m gonna go now.”

Silence. Crowley could see that Aziraphale didn’t believe him.

“Alright, talk more tomorrow, then,” he finally said, letting Crowley get away with the lie.

Crowley didn’t answer, because he planned to avoid Aziraphale until the last possible minute, and he didn’t want to lie about this too. His feet felt heavy as he turned to leave and walked the few steps across the hall to his own apartment. 

Once inside he let his back fall towards the door, head falling down, eyes closing of their own accord - his emotional armor crumbling. Was he a fool for doing this? _Yes._ A tear rolled down his cheek and he swiped it away with his arm. 

He pulled himself up again and started to undress on the spot, not caring to pick up the clothes as he headed towards his bed. Completely naked, he threw himself on the covers, hoping he would fall asleep quickly. Sleep had been scarce the last week and he sorely needed it now. Crowley suspected that the elusive Sandman would stay away this night too, though, leaving him alone with his own thoughts.

¤¤¤

Crowley peered at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. He looked like shit, and he didn’t have the energy to do anything about it. He had managed to get a few hours of sleep, but most of the night had been spent brooding.

He glared at the image in front of him. _This is your fault._ Checking his clock, he sighed. It was still a few hours before he needed to leave, might as well give sleep another try. Normally he would saunter over to Aziraphale - it didn’t matter how early, Aziraphale was almost always awake before Crowley - but not this time.

He went back into the bedroom and crawled under the bed covers where some of the warmth still lingered. Surprisingly he fell asleep almost right away - although it was an uneasy one, not providing the necessary rest.

The knocking on the door awoke him. Aziraphale. Crowley knew it was him without looking, because he had expected it. Had expected Aziraphale to come to him when he didn’t show up as usual. He knew ignoring him wouldn’t work but it was worth a try, he thought, and stumbled into the bathroom. 

Not enough time to shower. _Damn._ He had slept too long. The irony didn’t escape him. 

He started to stuff his backpack with a towel and toiletries; if he asked nicely perhaps his former co-worker and friend Eric would let him borrow his shower. If he left now there should be time before he was supposed to meet the woman subletting her apartment.

It was knocking again. Time was up, he’d have to skip shaving too. Crowley sighed and combed his fingers through his hair, trying to get the thick mane under a semblance of control. It’ll just have to do, he thought, and went back to the bedroom to get dressed. He grabbed the first shirt and trousers he could find; a white shirt and black jeans. That would do just fine.

“Crowley, I know you’re still home. Open the door.” The voice was a bit muffled but it was unmistakably belonging to Aziraphale.

Crowley stared at the door for a moment. _Here we go._ He put on his leather jacket, grabbed his sunglasses and opened the door.

“Hello Aziraphale.” He didn’t say anything else, because he didn’t want to invite the discussion he knew was coming.

“Going somewhere?” Aziraphale attempted to smile, but he sounded sad.

“Uh, yeah. ‘M gonna go look at an apartment.” 

“Oh. When will you be back?” Crowley could see that Aziraphale tried to catch his eyes but he looked away. “We need to talk.”

And there it was. He knew he was a coward, but this was for the best. For the both of them. He didn’t want to leave, but it was hurting him too much to stay. And Aziraphale could never know. Determined, he finally dared to look at Aziraphale again.

“What’s the point? You know what, I gotta go.” Feeling the need to escape, he closed and locked his door and headed for the lift. 

Just when he thought he had gotten away, Aziraphale pushed himself past the doors and joined him in the lift. 

“What are you doing? You’re not coming with me.” 

“We need to talk, Crowley, you can’t just drop something like this on me and then run away.” 

“I’m not-” Crowley cut himself off when the list came to a stop.

“Talk to me Crowley. I don’t understand why you are doing this, why you are moving from London?” There was a pleading note in Aziraphale’s voice.

Crowley started to feel cornered.

“I just do, OK? Ngk, I need to get out of here!” He wasn’t claustrophobic, but the combination of the close quarters and the need to get away from Aziraphale was causing him to nearly panic.

“You can’t leave, Crowley. There isn’t anywhere to go.” He paused. “At least tell me when you decided that you wanted to move away?”

The question opened the floodgates to memories that Crowley had been trying to repress: Aziraphale in his ridiculous and absolutely adorable Cupid outfit - he had worn a toga with gold details that clung to his body in a flattering way. The wings had been small but exquisitely constructed, making him look more like an angel of Heaven than the God of Love. He even had a halo and a little bow - the latter in a decorative blue and grey colour, and referred to by Aziraphale as a ‘rain bow’.

He didn’t want to think about it, but there was no stopping the memories now.

“Two weeks ago.” It felt unexpectedly good to get the confession off his chest and he relaxed a little, accepting that he couldn’t keep this from Aziraphale any longer. He looked up at his personal Cupid; his arrow had pierced Crowley’s heart long before the party, but that had been a tipping point.

“Two weeks ago? What happened two weeks ago that made you want to leave?” Aziraphale frowned, confusion obvious on his features.

The kiss happened.

_“Ahh, he won’t give up? Just say that you already have a boyfriend.” In the drunken haze, it sounded like a splendid idea to Crowley. He turned his head to face the living room again, just as a shifty looking man was approaching them. “Is he tall and looks like a douche? Because he’s coming this way in that case.”_

_Next thing he knew, Aziraphale pulled him close._

_“Sorry,”_

_“What are you-” Before Crowley could grasp what was happening, Aziraphale started to kiss him. The question he had been about to ask vaporized from his mind, and was replaced with the sensations Aziraphale’s lips were creating._

The lift started moving again, momentarily drawing away his attention from the memories. But that distraction only lasted a few seconds. Once he laid eyes on Aziraphale again, he was pulled back in.

_It started softly, but once Crowley realised what was happening - Aziraphale was kissing him! - he deepened the kiss. He couldn’t understand why he was so lucky, but at that moment he didn’t want to question it. He could feel Aziraphale’s hand move up from his collar and into his hair. Oh god, and it felt so good. It created a need to get him even closer and his hands travelled down from his shoulders to take a better hold. Crowley wasn’t holding back now, and he placed a hand on that plump behind he had been admiring for years. To his satisfaction, Aziraphale gasped and Crowley let the tip of his tongue explore. This was better than he had imagined. Because he had imagined - over and over - during the last years. He bit lightly on Aziraphale’s lower lip, but that must have been a mistake because Aziraphale pulled away._

_“Crowley..!” He didn’t say anything, but he looked confused. Like reality suddenly hit him and he didn’t know what to make of it._

_Crowley felt a bit confused himself. Hadn’t Aziraphale felt the same thing as him? He locked eyes with his beloved friend, hoping to find...something._

_“Aziraphale, I-”_

_He wasn’t sure what he had meant to say, but he was interrupted before he could finish._

Looking at Aziraphale now in the lift, he regretted that he hadn’t said something the day after the party. In that moment Crowley made a split second decision, moving forward to cup Aziraphale’s face. _What do I have to lose?_ The kiss was short, but he tried to convey everything he felt: Love, sadness, regret. Goodbye. They would still see each other, but it felt like their friendship would never be the same.

He didn’t look back as he exited the lift, and he didn’t stop moving until he reached his Bentley. Once inside, he exhaled sharply and leaned his forehead on the steering wheel.

The image of Aziraphale - hardly daring to look at Crowley after Anathema interrupted them - was seared into his mind. He knew that Aziraphale had felt something too, which is why it felt like a dagger in his heart when Aziraphale had refused to acknowledge what happened. Ignored it, and him along with it.

He sighed. What’s done is done. Time to move forward, and forward right now was finding somewhere to live.

He started the car and headed for Portsmouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic connects to an earlier one-shot, "What could have happened (aka The day after the Party) " and takes place (as the title suggests) after the party mentioned in chapter 1 and 2:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/29340777
> 
> I wrote it on a whim (around the time I was working on chapter 2 for this one), brought on by the prompt: Confession
> 
> I will make this a collection later (I have ideas for more fics connected to this one)


	3. Misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale meets up with Anathema, hoping to make sense of everything

“Thank you for meeting me here, Anathema."

Aziraphale had been a bit vague on the phone when he called Anathema, asking if she had time for a coffee and cake at their favourite cafe. She had said yes without hesitation. 

The cafe wasn’t just their favourite because it was located conveniently halfway between their apartments, it also had the most scrumptious angel cakes on this side of London. They were now sitting outside at “their” table - a table they by silent agreement always chose if it was available. It was close to the entrance, but not close enough to be bothered by the coming and goings of other customers. It also gave them a good view of passers-by, without being heard if they discussed delicate matters.

“To be completely honest, I was expecting your call.” Before Aziraphale could react, she continued. “I mean, I was the one who gave Crowley the information about the job and my friend told me yesterday that he had accepted it.” She put her hand over his. “How are you feeling?”

“I.. I’m not sure. Devastated that he’s leaving, but there’s something else…” He frowned, not sure where to start. “Something else happened. He kissed me.”

“Finally! So he isn’t leaving?” There was hope in Anathema’s eyes as she attempted a small smile.

“I- What? What do you mean, finally?” The frown deepened. “Do you know something I don’t?”

She squeezed his hand, concern once again back in her eyes.

“Aziraphale, honey. It’s been obvious for quite some time that he loves you. Like *love* you, love you. I didn’t want to say anything because I was hoping you two would figure it out by yourselves.” She sighed. “Maybe I should have.”

Aziraphale blinked twice. He wasn’t so stupid that he didn’t realise that the kiss had meant something, but love?

“Honey, are you OK? You love him too, don’t you? Neither of you has said as much, but it has been plain as day to the rest of us.” She actually rolled her eyes at him. “I was half expecting you to tell me that you’re moving in together.”

Aziraphale huffed.

“If it was that obvious, why haven’t I noticed it myself?”

She squinted, assessing him.

“Yes, why haven’t you? Hmm?” She tilted her head forward and peered at him over the rim of her glasses.

He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again. Had he ignored the signals? _Yes._ He closed his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the voice. He gave up. When he opened his eyes again, there was something fragile in his voice.

“Because I was afraid.” His mouth pressed into a thin line before he continued. “Something… something happened early on in our friendship, and I suppressed any thoughts of him becoming anything more than just that, a friend.”

Now it was Anathema’s turn to frown.

“You’ve never told me this. Was it when we were still at uni together?”

Aziraphale withdrew his hand, laying both of them in his lap. It was so long ago, but the memory still made him a bit uncomfortable. He looked down, in his mind once again back in their flat. That was how the four of them had become friends to begin with - Newt had found the flat and had put out an ad searching for flatmates. There had been someone else, Uriel, living in what later became Aziraphale’s room, but they had been kicked out when they refused to pay rent on time. Anathema was the one that told Aziraphale about the vacant room. ‘A pretty angel to replace the bad angel’, Crowley had said when they had been introduced to each other. 

He would never confess to it, but he hadn’t decided if he would accept the room until he laid eyes on Crowley. How could he not? His hair had been longer then, almost shoulder-length. He had given Aziraphale a once-over and winked with a crooked smile on his face. There had been a rockstar air about him, and Aziraphale was instantly smitten.

“Yes. There was a.. misunderstanding. And Crowley made it clear that we’d only ever be friends. Or at least I thought he did.” He was frowning again.

Aziraphale had been sound asleep in his bed when Crowley had barged in, not entirely sober.

_“Aziraphale? I need to-” Crowley was still wearing his sunglasses for some reason, and he took them off. “Oh! Didn’t mean t’wake you. I’ll leave again.”_

_“No, it’s fine,” he said and he yawned. “Did you want something?"_

_Aziraphale could tell even in the dim light from the living room that he was blushing. Strange. Crowley seemed to hesitate, still standing just inside the doorway. Aziraphale pulled himself up and propped himself against his pillow._

_“I’m awake now, so might as well say whatever it was you came in here for.” He yawned again._

_Crowley looked unsure now, still hesitating._

_“Crowley. Come here.” He fixed his eyes on Crowley and patted on the bed. “I don’t bite.”_

_Crowley inhaled a deep breath and tentatively took the few steps over to Aziraphale and sat down._

_“It wasn’t something that couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” Crowley wasn’t his usual confident self, which started to worry Aziraphale._

_He placed his hand over Crowley’s that was lying on the cover._

_“Is everything all right, my friend?” Aziraphale searched his face, but Crowley didn’t look at him._

_Before he could answer, Newt entered the room._

_“Oh, sorry to interrupt an intimate moment,” he said when he saw them on the bed. Newt wasn’t known for his tact. “I’ll just go again and leave you to...whatever is happening here.” Newt was about to leave and close the door when Crowley halted him._

_“What? No, nothing intimate about this.” He drew back his hand, blushing again. “I just need to talk to Aziraphale, done in a minute.”_

_Newt stopped, his hand still on the door knob._

_“You sure? Just need your help with the stereo.” Both Aziraphale and Crowley made a face, Newt was bad with electronics. Really bad._

_“Yes, back in a bit. Just don’t.. touch anything, yeah?” Crowley turned to Aziraphale again as Newt headed back into the living room. “Sorry.” He paused and just gazed at Aziraphale for a moment. “I.. I’m so happy we are friends. Our friendship is really important to me.”_

_Aziraphale wasn’t sure, but it seemed like he had been about to say something else and then changed his mind._

_“It is to me too, Crowley.”_

_“Good,” Crowley said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I better go back out and help before he finishes that poor stereo off completely.”_

_Before Aziraphale could say anything else, he left the room and closed the door behind him, leaving Aziraphale feeling like he had said or done something wrong._

While retelling the incident to Anathema, Aziraphale started to question his own judgement. Had he interpreted Crowley wrong, all this time?

On the other side of the table, Anathema cursed.

“I love that fool, but he sure has bad timing sometimes.” She rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Sorry?”

“I’m not completely sure, but I think Crowley was going to ask you out that night.” Anathema placed her hands on top of each other on the table.

“Excuse me??” Aziraphale’s mouth fell open. “How do you know that?” He leaned forward.

“Like I said, I’m not completely sure but I think I know what night that was, and I had seen him earlier in his room. It looked like he was trying to muster up courage to do something, pacing back and forth and muttering something under his breath. At the time I figured that he was preparing for the interviews for those extra jobs he had applied to, but now I think he was working up to ask you out. That shouldn’t come as a surprise, considering how he flirted with you in the beginning.” She winked. “Kept calling you ‘angel’.”

“I figured he was just being nice to me, to make me feel more included in your gang. And he kind of stopped with both, after a while…” Realisation dawned on him. “Oh.” His eyes widened.

“Oh, honey…” Anathema had a serious note in her voice again. “Well, what’s done is done. What about this kiss you mentioned?”

Aziraphale could feel his cheeks turn red.

“Actually, there have been two kisses.” He could hardly look at Anathema.

“What?!” Her jaw dropped. “Tell me everything!”

He briefly told her about the kiss at the party and everything that had happened from the moment when Crowley told him that he was leaving. He explained that he hadn’t remembered the first kiss until the second one jogged his memory.

When he finished he planted his elbows on the table, leaning his head against his open hands.

Anathema was silent for a moment, processing what she’d just heard.

“OK, a couple of thoughts. One. Apparently Newt isn’t the only one with bad timing. Sorry?” She reached out a hand and grabbed one of Aziraphale’s, still covering his face. She gently squeezed it. “Two. It may not have been optimal, the way it happened I mean, but now you know right?”

Aziraphale splayed the hand still on his face and peered at her. When he didn’t say anything, she continued.

“You never answered my question. You love him back, don’t you?” She phrased it like a question, but it sounded more like a statement.

He exhaled sharply and dropped his other hand, straightening himself and leaned against the back of the chair.

“I’ve been denying it to myself for so long, it’s hard to admit it. But yes, I do.” He lowered his eyes and looked utterly miserable.

“Great!” 

The exclamation from Anathema almost startled him and he looked up again. Her smile was so wide it crinkled her eyes. He frowned.

“Why is that so great? He’s already leaving, already starting another job!”

“What’s stopping him from getting another job here again? Aziraphale, he doesn’t know how you feel.” The smile was gone again. “And from what I can tell by your story, he probably feels like you rejected him that night in our kitchen.”

Aziraphale paled. He didn’t know why, but that had stupidly not occurred to him.

“I.. I just needed to think things through. It all happened so fast.”

She took his other hand too and locked eyes with him.

“Aziraphale, you need to tell _him_ that, not me. Tell him everything.” Short pause. “If you want more than friendship you have to say that, at this point there can’t be any more misunderstandings between you two. OK?”

He nodded.

“I have been too afraid but you’re right, I will lose him if I’m not honest with him, and with myself. I will talk with him tonight, when he comes back.” The smile was weak but hopeful. “Even if it means that I have to break down his door to do it.”

Aziraphale went home again, busying himself with cooking and baking. Crowley was the one that excelled at baking cookies, but he wanted to surprise him with a three-course meal, hoping that would be incentive enough for him to come over.

By nine pm there was still no sound of Crowley coming home, so Aziraphale opened a bottle of wine and ate the food alone, ignoring the cookies he had made. Two hours later the bottle was almost empty, and still no sign of Crowley.

When the cuckoo clock struck twelve, Aziraphale finally gave up and went to bed.

¤¤¤

Crowley was dead tired when he finally parked the car outside the apartment building. He sighed.

“Well that went down like a lead balloon,” he said out loud to himself and laughed a bitter laugh. The apartment had been worse than his already low expectations: Dirty with broken furniture, holes in the carpet… And there had been a weak but unmistakable smell of something he didn’t want to think about. Eric had gotten a last minute tip about a studio apartment, but it had been too far away to be worth the high cost.

He dragged himself inside and got into the lift. The lift where he had last seen Aziraphale. Kissed him. Crowley had had a lot of time to think on his drive back. He hadn’t been fair to Aziraphale, he should go over and talk to him tomorrow. He checked his clock. Half past twelve. OK, later today then.

When he reached his door, he turned to look at Aziraphale’s and briefly considered knocking to see if he was awake, just to get it over with. He didn’t though, as he realised that both of them would be too tired to give the discussion the focus it deserved. That Aziraphale deserved.

Just as he opened his door, he thought he smelled cookies. Frowning, he rejected the idea as ridiculous and went inside.

When he woke up the next morning he actually felt refreshed. Well, sort of, but he had slept more than he had in what felt like a long while. He got up, feeling quite a lot better than he had yesterday, and sauntered over to the backpack he’d dropped by the door when he got home. Unpacking it, he realised he had forgotten his phone charger at Eric’s place.

“No. Nonono!” He ran over to the night stand and picked up his phone. Dead. “Oh, bollocks!” He threw it on the bed and dragged a hand through his already-mussed hair. As he always did when he got anxious, he started pacing. 

It got even worse when he checked his clock and discovered that he had slept much longer than he usually did. He was meeting with his new boss for lunch, and he hadn’t much time to get himself ready. 

In record time (for Crowley), he quickly showered and got dressed, rushing out through his door.

Crowley realised he was already late as it was, but he figured he owed it to Aziraphale to let him know he wasn’t running away this time, that they would talk. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Nothing.

He knocked again and moved his head closer, trying to listen if he could hear any movements on the other side of the door. He waited another minute before he finally gave up, lowering his eyebrows. This had taken an unexpected turn, an unwelcome one. If he’d had more time he could have left him a note, but as it was he should have left ten minutes ago.

He rushed towards the lift, got in and pressed the button for the ground floor two extra times, even though he knew it wouldn’t go faster if he did. Just as he turned to face the closing doors, fingers tapping his thighs in a stressed rhythm, he saw Aziraphale peeking out from his apartment.

Aziraphale had woken up later than usual, sporting a slight headache from the wine. He really should avoid drinking too much. Hoping a shower would help, he stepped inside the bathtub and turned on the water as hot as he thought he could handle. The warmth felt nicer than expected and he ended up just standing there under the flowing water much longer than he had planned.

He was just about to rinse off the shampoo when he thought he heard a knock. He quickly turned on the water to get the shampoo out of his hair, and when he turned it off again he heard another knock.

“Bugger!”

Hardly giving himself time to get dry, he grabbed the pair of tartan boxers and the light blue t-shirt he brought with him into the bathroom, putting them on as he made his way to his front door. Hoping he wasn’t too late, he threw the door open. No one was there. 

He stuck his head and looked around. Crowley! Aziraphale was so surprised to see him it took a moment to realise that it actually _was_ him. He could see the moment when Crowley noticed him, it looked like...he was happy to see him. No dread or sadness, just happiness. He was shouting something Aziraphale couldn’t make out.

The sight of Aziraphale gave Crowley a warm feeling in his chest. Whatever the reason for him not opening the door before was, it wasn’t because he was avoiding him.

“I’ll be back later!” He shouted, hoping Aziraphale would hear him, even though the last words were most certainly cut off by the closing lift doors.

The lift began its slow journey towards the ground floor, but stopped on the second floor; apparently someone else wanted to use the lift going down.

Crowley just stared with his mouth open when he saw that it was Aziraphale, panting heavily. Water was dripping from his luscious curls, his shirt was wet in several places and clinged to him, showing off his soft curves. He looked absolutely delicious.

“Aziraphale, what-”

Crowley didn’t get any further until he was silenced by Aziraphale, throwing himself on him, pressing hot lips against his. He reacted without thinking and reached around the ample waist with his arms, pulling him closer. _Aziraphale was kissing him._ Moaning, he let one hand travel further up to let his fingers nestle on the soft curls of his nape. Aziraphale responded by moving them to the wall, pressing up against him.

“Is this becoming a habit, gentlemen?”

The question came from Mrs Young, holding the doors and waiting to get in the lift. She had a mischievous smile and a twinkle in her eyes.

Neither of them had noticed that they now had reached the ground floor and Aziraphale quickly took a step back from Crowley and cleared his throat, suddenly intensely aware of how it must look. How _he_ must look, in just his boxers and a shirt.

“Oh, erhm, I’m sorry, Mrs Young.” He attempted a weak smile.

“Now now, none of that. I’m happy to see you together.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Crowley took a step forward, finally coming to his senses after that mind blowing kiss.

“Hello, Mrs Young, sorry, Mrs Young,” he said and then turned to face Aziraphale. “I really have to go, but I promise I will be back.” The smile he gave Aziraphale was a hopeful one. “Then we can talk. OK?” He didn’t give Aziraphale a chance to respond before he cupped his face and kissed him softly. “See you later.” He released him. “Bye, Mrs Young!” he said as he went past her and rushed out to his car.

“...Bye.” Aziraphale stared after Crowley as he was leaving, momentarily stunned by the beaming smile he had given him.

“My dear, you probably should get back and change into something dry.” Mrs Young stepped into the lift and pressed the button for their floor.

“Uh, yes, I suppose I should,” Aziraphale said and tried to discreetly cover his groin in order to hide the noticeable bulge in his boxers. The sly look on Mrs Young’s face told him he had failed.


	4. Confessions and Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale heads back to his apartment to prepare and wait for Crowley's return. It's time for them to finally talk things through.

Once back in his apartment, Aziraphale went immediately to his closet to get a dry shirt, but as soon as that was done, he was at a loss of what to do next. He knew it would be hours before Crowley would be back but he felt fidgety and hated that he had to wait. Walking out to the kitchen, he saw the bottle of wine he had emptied the night before. Ignoring the fact that it might be better to be sober ( _they would share the bottle, so it wouldn’t be so bad right?)_ , he took out a pen and piece of paper from a kitchen drawer and started making a shopping list. The cookies would be just as tasty today and deciding to skip the starter, he only needed groceries for the main course.

After a long pause of staring at the piece of paper, he added condoms to the list. It had been quite a while since he had a partner, and from what he knew the same was true for Crowley. He didn’t even know if he wanted to have sex tonight - or if Crowley did for that matter - but better be safe than sorry.

Realising he had no idea when Crowley would return, he grabbed his phone to text him.

**_I can fix dinner for us if you let me know when you’ll be back. Need about half an hour’s heads up._ **

He pressed send but immediately added:

**_Can’t wait to see you_ **

He hesitated. Should he add a heart? Finally deciding not to, he pressed send again.

Walking towards his closet again to get socks and trousers, he felt a warmth spread in his chest. A warmth that expanded into a bright smile that he still had on his face when he left his apartment.

One hour later he was back, whistling, as he entered the apartment again. He had managed to pinch the last two bottles of Châteauneuf-du-Pape on the shelf and felt pleased with himself. A smug smile crept up on his face when he remembered the astonished look on that dreadful Mrs Dowling’s face when he snatched both of them right from under her nose. 

He put down the bags on the counter and went out to the living room to turn on the TV. Needing something to fill the silence, he put on the fourth season of Doctor Who before returning to the kitchen to unpack the wine and the groceries. He hummed along to the intro as he started to prepare the things he could do in advance. The main course would be crêpes with a chicken stew filling, a recipe he had been meaning to try but never gotten around to yet. The last stage of the recipe was to let them bake in the oven, so his plan was to finish everything up to that point, in advance.

A while later, the first part of the preparations was done and he reached for his phone to see if Crowley had replied yet. It wasn't likely he would have, but he couldn’t help himself. Nothing. Trying not to let it get to him, he contemplated whether he should get some candles for the dinner. Did he even _have_ candles? He spent the next twenty minutes searching, before he finally found one in the top drawer of the living room dresser. It took him an extra ten minutes of searching for a candle holder until he gave up and decided to use the empty wine bottle.

He was just about to put the bottle on the kitchen table when he noticed that he had received two texts. Crowley.

**_Sorry, battery was dead. Sounds lovely, text you when I’m on my way_ **

**_Miss you_ **

The last text spawned butterflies in Aziraphale’s stomach and a goofy smile on his face. Giddy, he began with the next part of the preparations while moving his body to a song he only heard in his head.

He was finally done with the last part of the preparations and was just about to go to his closet to pick out some clothes when he caught himself. He was behaving like this was a date. It wasn’t, the only thing he really knew was that they were going to talk about what had happened - and as far as he knew, Crowley was still leaving. The exhilarated feeling he had dampened, but didn’t go away completely. He decided to compromise: He wouldn’t change into something he normally would wear to date, but he switched the shirt to a baby blue cotton v-neck jumper.

With nothing more to be done for the moment, he got his phone and went into the living room and seated himself on the couch to watch the show that was still running on the TV. He skipped to the episode ‘The Unicorn and the Wasp’ and pulled up his feet, making himself more comfortable while glancing down at the phone display.

He was about halfway through the episode when the expected text came.

**_Leaving now, will be there in about 1h 45._ **

Another text immediately followed.

**_Probably sooner_ **

Aziraphale frowned. Crowley had a tendency to drive too fast sometimes. He answered.

**_Take your time, drive safely_ **

The reply came quick.

**_When do I not;)_ **

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and then chuckled. _Ridiculous man._

Now knowing his deadline, Aziraphale decided he’d watch the next episode too before getting the last stage of the dinner ready.

About ten minutes before Crowley should be arriving, Aziraphale started getting nervous. Should he greet him with a kiss? Or a hug? They had already kissed, but… He wrung his hands until he realised what he was doing and purposefully went over to check on the crêpes again, even though he knew they needed about five more minutes in the oven.

Outside, Crowley was parking his Bentley. There hadn’t been as much traffic as he had anticipated, and even though he’d actually held the speed limit he was a bit early. He was tired but happy, with a pinch of nervousness. Aziraphale had kissed him, but nothing had been said so there was still a possibility that he had made a wrong move today. A slim one, but still. 

The crêpes were just about done when Aziraphale heard the knocking on the door. Quickly, he grabbed the tartan oven mitten and took out the pan from the oven, placing it on the top before scrambling to the door. Just as he was about to open it he realised he was still wearing the mitten. Oh, well, he thought, and swung the door open with a smile on his face.

On the other side was Crowley, looking a bit worn but smiling nonetheless. For a few moments, they just stared at each other.

“Hello, Aziraphale,” Crowley finally said, in a soft voice. 

“Hello.”

“You look wonderful tonight, and whatever it is you got cooking smells delicious.” A pause. “You gonna let me in?” he asked, now grinning.

“Oh! Sorry, of course.” Aziraphale had gotten a bit dazed by the sight of Crowley but he now stepped back to let Crowley in. “I’m just gonna…” He pointed towards the kitchen and rushed over to put back the mitten. When he turned around again, he was almost startled. Crowley had followed him and was now standing close. Very close.

“Hello again.” Crowley locked eyes with him. “I hope you don’t mind but I just wanted to do this…” He placed a hand around his neck and leaned forward the few remaining centimetres to place a searing kiss on his lips. “I have been thinking about doing that ever since I left the lift this morning, and I felt like I needed to get it out of the way.”

Aziraphale took his free hand in his.

“Same for me, although I’m not sure it got any better.” He chuckled.

Aziraphale turned to the counter and was just about to reach for the wine bottle when he stopped.

“Do you want wine? ...Or are you leaving again tonight? It just occurred to me that you’re probably starting your new job tomorrow.” He lowered his hands, and turned around to face Crowley, uncertainty plain on his features.

Crowley cupped his face and kissed him on the forehead.

“You can pour us both some wine. I’m not going anywhere.” He walked over to the kitchen table and sat down on one of the chairs. “We have a lot to talk about tonight, but I might as well tell you right away that I’m not leaving.” He eyed the makeshift candle holder before he turned his attention back to Aziraphale again with a half smile. “Now, hand me the matches and bring whatever it is that you’ve got in the pan over there. I’m starving, and it would be a shame to let it grow cold.”

Relieved, Aziraphale gave him the matchbox and put the pan on the table.

“Dig in if you want, while I get us the wine.”

“No, it’s fine.” He observed Aziraphale as he filled their glasses. “I can wait.”

Aziraphale sat down and they began eating in a comfortable silence filled with stolen glances and occasional smiles.

“This was really delicious, thank you Aziraphale.” Crowley raised his glass in an invitation to a toast. “Here’s to you, I would have been happy with take-out but I love that you did this for me. For us.”

Aziraphale clinked his glass against Crowley’s.

“It was really nothing, I needed to do something to pass the time. But thank you, for saying it.” There was a hint of mirth in his eyes. “I even baked, although that was yesterday.”

“That was you?” Crowley’s eyes widened. “I thought I smelled cookies when I got home, but figured I was imagining it.” He reached his hand across the table to take Aziraphale’s. “What do you say you go and get them, and we’ll move to the living room instead? I want to taste these cookies right away.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand.

“Coming right up.”

“Oh, and leave the dishes,” Crowley said when he saw that Aziraphale was aiming to get his now empty plate. “You cooked, I’ll clean.” He winked. “Later.”

When Aziraphale came into the living room with a plate of cookies, he could see that Crowley was surveying the TV.

“You’ve been watching Doctor Who without me?” He asked in mock dismay.

“I can’t help it if you’re away the entire weekend. I need my regular dose of the Doctor.” He winked as he put down the plate on the table and joined him on the couch.

“I’m sorry.” Crowley said in a suddenly very serious tone. “I’m so, so sorry.” He knew that Aziraphale had only said it in jest, but it had reminded Crowley of the reason why he had come here tonight. He gently took Aziraphale’s hand in both of his as his eyes wandered over his face.

“I’m sorry too. I.. I want to explain why I did what I did the night of the party. When we kissed.”

“You don’t-”

“Yes, I do.” Aziraphale interrupted him before he could finish. “Everything needs to be brought out into the open.” He paused. “I feel a bit ridiculous now, but I have been under the impression that you’ve never been interested in being more than friends.” He could see that Crowley was going to object and continued hurriedly. “And before you protest, I have now realised that it was a misunderstanding.”

Crowley simply nodded, understanding that Aziraphale needed to get it all out.

“If I could go back in time, I would do things differently but it is what it is. What I can say, is that I only hesitated because I needed to think, to readjust.” He let his eyes drift down to their linked hands. “Stupid Johnnie Walker.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

“I swiped a huge glass of whisky when I couldn’t find you,” he grumbled without looking up.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t find that funny but you don’t even like whisky.” Crowley could barely contain a laugh.

“I know!” Aziraphale said and felt a giggle sneak up on him. It released some of the tension that had built up without him noticing.

Crowley waited for him to continue, but it seemed like Aziraphale was done for now.

“May I… ask why you thought I didn’t want more than friendship?” he wondered cautiously.

Aziraphale raised his eyes again and told him about the night in his room in their flat. He didn’t mention what Anathema’s conclusion had been.

“Ahh.. Right. I had been flirting with you ever since you moved in but you didn’t seem to catch on, so I had planned to ask you out.” Crowley frowned. “But I chickened out when Newt interrupted us. Like you, I also got the impression that you only saw me as a friend and I didn’t want to ruin that.” A hand came up to caress Aziraphale’s cheek. “We weren’t best friends yet at that point, but I didn’t want to risk losing our friendship.” He smiled and let his hand rest there for a moment before dropping it back over his again.

“Oh. I see.” Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to frown. “Seems like we both had a little miscommunication.”

“Maybe it was for the best, I had some growing up to do. Either way, like you said - what’s done is done.” He took a deep breath. “And now it’s my turn to explain and apologize. I should just have brought it up the day after, when I was here, but I was a proper coward. For that, for taking the job, and definitely for not telling you about it right away. The kiss changed things, made everything harder, but I should have learned from my time in Edinburgh that it’s no use running away.”

“Edinburgh? What has that got to do with this?”

“You never wondered about the timing? Why I took that job shortly after you met that wanker Ligur?”

“No…”

“Or why I returned to London just a few months after you finally dumped that prick?” He glanced to the side, thinking back. “I would have moved back earlier if not for that project I had promised to see through.” He locked eyes with Aziraphale again. “Scotland was amazing, but I missed you like hell.”

“...So you are saying…” Aziraphale couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I’m saying that I couldn’t stand to see you together with someone else, especially with someone that treated you like shit - although I didn’t know that at the time.” Crowley clenched his jaw. “I wish you hadn’t waited to tell me about it until after you broke up with that sanctimonious ass, I would have loved to throw him out of here. For a start.”

Aziraphale found vengeful Crowley a bit hot. Make that really hot. He squirmed a little where he was sitting.

“Well, now I wish that too.” His voice might have been a bit breathless, but he hoped it wasn’t noticeable.

“Oh, really?” Crowley raised one eyebrow and relaxed his jaw, his mouth turning into a naughty smile. He had definitely noticed. “You’d like that, huh?” He slid closer and placed one hand on Aziraphale’s strong thigh.

Aziraphale’s throat went dry and his heart started to beat faster. He swallowed.

“I mean, I had no problem handling him myself, but the thought of you giving him a piece of your mind is strangely...enticing. Maybe I-”

The rest was muffled by Crowley’s mouth and Aziraphale threw an arm around his neck to keep his balance. Crowley eased him gently backwards, mouths still interlocked, until he was lying against the several pillows Aziraphale had in “his” corner of the couch. They had early on chosen their own spots on the couch; when Aziraphale was reading he wanted the corner closest to the window to have natural lighting, and Crowley preferred the other one for the exact opposite reason - too much light irritated his eyes.

Aziraphale pulled back a little.

“Hold on, there’s something…” He tried to reach for something underneath his back. They were both startled when the TV started playing. That something had been the remote, and he had accidentally pressed play in the process of reaching for it.

“Were you going to watch “Forest of the Dead” without me?” Crowley was momentarily distracted by the discovery. “You know that’s one of my favourite episodes.” Both knew that he had watched it countless times, and both also knew that the frown he had on now wasn’t seriously meant.

The surprise on his face when he finally noticed what kind of cookies it was, on the other hand, was real. His attention had been diverted by their serious conversation until now.

“You made white chocolate chip cookies?” He looked down at Aziraphale.

“Yes, I know that they are your favourite.” He leaned up and placed a kiss on his nose. “We can continue this later if you want.” His gaze was soft as he gently stroked his cheek with his thumb. “We have time.”

“I guess you’re right. As much as I want to nibble on something else,” he said, and leaned down to graze his neck with his teeth, prompting a moan from Aziraphale, “I should perhaps stick to the cookies. For now.”

Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered and he almost protested, before coming to his senses again.

Crowley pulled himself up and helped Aziraphale up to sitting position again.

“Let’s start the episode over, and I’ll get us something to, uh, quench our thirst.” Aziraphale really needed something to cool himself off.

“With these cookies, we need milk.” The smile was boyish and made Crowley look younger. “If you have any?”

“Of course I have, dear. I’ll be back in a minute.”

When Aziraphale came back with two glasses, Crowley patted next to him on the couch .

“If you don’t mind, I would like to snuggle.” 

Delighted, Aziraphale sat down and scooted close, settling himself under Crowley’s arm.

“Splendid idea,” he said and gave him a peck on his cheek.

Aziraphale loved how much Crowley loved this two-parter, which introduced the viewer to River Song. It didn’t matter how many times he watched them, he always seemed just as engrossed in the story as Aziraphale was with his most beloved books. He didn’t blame him, it was two of his favourite episodes too.

The episode was nearing its end when Aziraphale turned his attention to him instead of the TV. He looked simply adorable, mouthing the lines as River Song was saying them:

_‘...You’ll see me again. You’ve got all of that to come. You and me, time and space. You watch us run.’_

“I love you.” It just spilled out, but Aziraphale didn’t regret saying it.

Crowley froze for an instant before turning to Aziraphale, the Doctor and River completely forgotten.

“I was hoping, but...I love you too, my pretty angel.” Crowley used his arm draped over Aziraphale’s shoulders to pull him in for a kiss.

One kiss turned into two, then turned into several more. Crowley couldn’t believe he was this lucky. When he yesterday had decided to stop being a coward and tell Aziraphale everything, he hadn’t dared to hope that this would be the outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time to raise it to the awaited E-rating in the next chapter;)


	5. Saddle up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap from the previous chapter:
> 
> _One kiss turned into two, then turned into several more. Crowley couldn’t believe he was this lucky. When he yesterday had decided to stop being a coward and tell Aziraphale everything, he hadn’t dared to hope that this would be the outcome._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for this fic to earn it's E-rating!
> 
> Please be gentle, this was my first (but probably not last) attempt at writing smut.
> 
> I think it technically might be possible to skip this chapter, but it works best if you don't.

It became even better when Aziraphale moved to straddle him. He inhaled sharply.

“Is this OK?” Aziraphale eyed him carefully.

“Oh, hell yes.” Crowley grabbed his hips and stroked his sides with his thumbs. “More than OK, I’d say.” His hands slid further back to settle on his buttocks, pulling him closer. “Ya feel me?” He groaned. “Oh God, sorry for the bad pun.”

Aziraphale had closed his eyes, definitely feeling the swelling in Crowley’s tight jeans, but he opened them again at this and chuckled.

“Oh, I do _feel_ you,” he said with a smirk and ground against Crowley’s crotch, causing his mouth to open, letting out a small whimper.

“Ahh, you’re killing me here, angel.” Despite his words, Crowley had a content smile on his face. He stretched forward. “Since we’re all out of cookies,” his lips left a wet trail along his jaw bone, “I’ll just have to move on to something else to sink my teeth in.” The last words were said in a low, seductive tone, vibrating against Aziraphale’s skin. 

Crowley licked and bit gently on his earlobe, and the sensation sent tendrils of pleasure all the way down through Aziraphale’s body, down to his toes, making him gasp and furrow his eyebrows. He moaned something that was meant to be his name.

“Liked that, did you?” Crowley said, as one of his hands travelled upwards, gliding in under the jumper to stroke the soft flesh of his back.

Aziraphale pulled back, quite dazed but with a sly look on his face.

“You fiend.” He slid down his hands along Crowley’s body, making the movement slow to appreciate the feeling of that hard chest under his fingers. “Take this off.” He tugged on the hem of the shirt and started pulling it upwards himself. “I want to touch you.”

Crowley helpfully raised his arms, and the shirt was thrown away somewhere on the other side of the couch.

“Beautiful.” Aziraphale lightly caressed the hot skin by the clavicle, stroking the black and red serpent tattoo that so often was hidden from him, and let his fingers drift further down to the nipple. “I can’t believe all of this is mine to touch.” He pinched it.

“Azira-” Crowley broke off in a lewd moan when Aziraphale bent down and replaced his fingers with his mouth. The hands that had been about to tug at Aziraphale’s jumper came up to nestle in his hair, pulling his face up for a desperate kiss.

“I love you so much,” Crowley said as they finally broke apart, both breathing hard. “What a fool I’ve been.”

“We both were, dearest,” Aziraphale said gently. “Best not to dwell on it, and just focus on here,” he stroked Crowley’s kiss-swollen bottom lip with his thumb, “and now, instead. Don’t you agree?”

“Ngk. Right.”

A buzzing sound coming from the kitchen made them both groan in unison.

“I think that’s yours, Aziraphale. Do you really need to get that? Please stay.”

“No one ever calls me this late, might be important.” He rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t do your puppy eyes on me, it won’t work,” Aziraphale lied, and chuckled. “I’ll just go and check who it was. As much as I want to ride you here and now on this couch, I still have to get up and get the lube and a towel. Do we need condoms?”

“Argh, you better be back right away, saying stuff like that!” Crowley shouted after him as he got up and walked over to the kitchen table. “And no, unless you’ve managed to meet someone I don’t know ‘bout, we don’t need them unless you want to. Aziraphale..?” He turned around where he sat to check on him when he didn’t answer.

“The missed call is from Michael,” he said, frowning.

“Your sister?” They both knew that she rarely called on Sundays, especially not this late in the evening. “Call her back.” There was no hesitation in his voice. Michael’s and Aziraphale’s history might not be an uncomplicated one, but Crowley knew that Aziraphale loved her dearly.

“Yes, I guess I should. I’m-”

Crowley cut him off before he could finish.

“Don’t apologise, sweetheart.”

The endearment, and the knowledge that Crowley knew him in and out, generated a warm feeling in his chest. Aziraphale smiled gratefully and mouthed a ‘thank you’ as he dialled his sister’s number and went into his bedroom.

He came back out again, twenty minutes later, a little bit worn out. When he looked around, he found that Crowley had moved from the couch and was now in the kitchen, doing the dishes, as promised. He hadn’t bothered to put on the shirt again, and with his back to Aziraphale his other tattoo - a pair of black wings - was displayed in its full glory. They covered much of the upper part of his back, and the craftsmanship was exquisite - Crowley had done his research before choosing the tattoo artist. He had asked Aziraphale to tag along as company, and even though he didn’t like watching Crowley being in pain, it had been an interesting and enlightening experience. Helping him with the tattoo aftercare had been, in a way, mildly painful for him too though. It had been excruciating to touch him like that, knowing it was only to help him moisturise, and nothing more. 

_Although…_ It suddenly hit him that that wasn’t the case any more. He didn't need to hold back any longer.

“Thank you,” he said as he embraced Crowley from behind and kissed him on the back. “I love your tattoo, you know.” He kissed it again.

“Don’t mention it, and thank you.” He placed a wet hand over Aziraphale’s and squeezed it gently before focusing on the dishes again. “Everything alright with Michael?”

Aziraphale kept his arms where they were and rested his chin on Crowley’s shoulder.

“Yes, she just needed to talk for a bit. She’s finally decided to divorce Hastur.” He rolled his eyes. “Not a day too late, if you ask me, which you already know. I didn’t say that of course.”

“That’s good to hear.” Crowley turned his head to give him a quick peck on the lips.

“Soo...are you done with this soon?” Aziraphale’s hands wandered down from the waist to work on the buttons of his jeans. Crowley’s jeans had a row of buttons instead of a zipper, and Aziraphale unbuttoned them, one at a time, slowly.

“Hey, I’m still working he- ahh…” Crowley closed his eyes as a hand reached inside.

“I thought we might continue what we started earlier. The dishes can wait.” He gripped his cock, still erect, and pulled down the jeans with his other hand. Crowley was naked underneath.

“Temptation accomplished.” Crowley turned around and crushed him against him in a scorching kiss. “You bastard,” he said with a smile, mouth still lingering closely. He stepped out of the jeans as Aziraphale took his hand and moved to go towards the bedroom again. Crowley stopped.

“Actually... Your words earlier gave me quite the mental picture, so if you don’t mind…” He pointedly turned his gaze to the couch with a raised eyebrow.

Aziraphale took a few seconds to appreciate the glorious naked body in front of him before he answered.

“I like your thinking.”

Crowley pulled him back into his arms.

“And you are much too covered for my taste, angel.”

“Quite right,” Aziraphale said, a bit breathless.

They both worked to get his clothes off, and Crowley positioned himself on the sofa. 

“Wait,” he said, as Aziraphale was approaching him again after retrieving the lube. “I want to look at you. “I have been dreaming about this ever since I walked in on you sleeping bare-chested.”

“What... wait, the night you were going to ask me out? Was that why you were blushing?” Aziraphale found the thought endearing and smiled, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Shut up,” Crowley said, slightly embarrassed, “and come here with your perfect arse.”

Eager to comply, Aziraphale once again straddled him, causing them both to moan at the contact. 

Crowley pulled him in for a kiss, savouring the feeling of skin against skin, and of the curves that fit so well against his own angles.

Aziraphale broke away and placed the bottle in his hand.

“Get on with it, will you.”

“I love it when you’re bossy,” Crowley said with a short laugh. “As you wish.” He winked.

He coated his fingers unhurriedly, one by one, while maintaining eye contact with Aziraphale. He was still watching him intently as he carefully slid the first finger in, taking in the view of Aziraphale closing his eyes in pleasure. Crowley wanted to be there with him through every touch, every sensation.

“Another finger, please.”

Slowly but methodically, Crowley fucked him with his fingers, adding another at the prompt of Aziraphale. After a short while, Aziraphale nodded. Crowley took the hint and pulled out his fingers while slicking his cock with his free hand.

“Saddle up, sweetheart.” 

Aziraphale raised himself up and sank down on Crowley’s stiff member, taking him in completely in one, slow go.

“Y’feel so good, angel.” The feeling of Aziraphale surrounding him was almost too much. Crowley gripped Aziraphale’s hips to hold him still. “Fuck. I just...need a moment.”

“I think I need a moment myself.”

Aziraphale buried his hands in Crowley’s flaming mane and pulled him closer for a gentle kiss.

“OK, you can move now.”

Aziraphale started to ride him, slowly at first, but soon picking up the pace. Crowley moved his hands down to grip his arse, as Aziraphale placed his hands on his shoulders for support. Crowley could feel that he was nearing the edge, fast.

“I’m almost...ahh, angel.”

“It’s OK, you come first, dearest. Let go for me.”

Aziraphale’s words were all it took for him to cross the threshold, and Crowley bent forward to embrace him as he filled him with his cum. The feeling made his heart sing. This was how it was supposed to be; with Aziraphale in his arms.

“That...was incredible.” Crowley barely managed to get the words out. “Let me just catch my breath and I’ll return the favour.” He kissed Aziraphale on the shoulder, that was damp with sweat from the mutual exertion. “Maybe I should take us to the shower. Place your arms around my neck and hold tight.”

Aziraphale did as he said and before he could ask why, Crowley took a more solid grip on his arse with one arm, wrapped the other around his waist, and stood up. Aziraphale reflexively locked his legs around him.

“My turn to give _you_ a ride.” He grinned.

Once in the bathroom, he gently let go of Aziraphale.

“Hop in, I’ll go get us some towels.”

“You’re joining me, I hope?”

“Of course, I’ve got unfinished business.” He stroked Aziraphale’s firm cock, still waiting for its release.

Aziraphale grabbed him for a hard kiss.

“Hurry up, you demon.”

It was much later when they finally made it to the bedroom.

“I realise I never asked, but I hope you’ll stay the night? I don’t think I have the energy for a second round, but I would love to sleep with you in my arms.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Now that I’ve got you, I’m not letting you go. Besides, I’m too tired to get dressed again and I don’t want to risk giving Mrs Young a heart attack if she happens to wander the hall if I try to sneak over completely naked.”

They settled in bed, chest against chest, with Aziraphale’s head on Crowley’s shoulder. Crowley nestled his nose in the soft curls, now smelling of pears - the scent from the shampoo they both had used to wash each other's hair.

“Good night, dearest.”

“Good night, angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I happened to have the prompt "Tattoos" on my Good Omens Bingo Card, so I will be posting a fic describing when Crowley got his wings tattoo.


End file.
